Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Alara, come on. Let’s talk about—”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I cut him off. I walked over, snatching the two plates from his hands. “I just hope you’re happy with your decision. Because you’re not getting another chance.”
With that, I shoved the plates into the dishwasher, dropped in the pod, slammed it shut with a flourish, and hit the button.
“Are you going to get out of my way?” I asked when he didn’t budge from the doorway.
He stood there for a long moment, watching me with intense eyes, then finally stepped aside.
“Well, that’s it for me and my little trash traitor,” I said, snatching Tuna off the ground where he was resting with his head on Liam’s feet.
“Uncle Chris, she shouldn’t walk alone,” Charlotte insisted again, her eyes wide with horror at the prospect.
“Don’t worry, kid,” I said, shooting her a wink, “I can take care of myself.”
And I’d rather get mugged than be alone in her uncle’s company again.
“Ez, Brio, spawns,” I said, addressing my niblings, “I’ll see you in a few weeks. Charlotte, thanks for the book rec.”
With that, I rushed out the door before Charlotte could work her magic on her uncle, and I found myself stuck with him all the way to the subway.
“Hey,” Ezzy called before I could get five feet from the front steps.
“Yeah?” I asked, exhaling hard.
“You okay?”
“Fine. Why?”
“Because I’ve never seen you rush out of here without stealing three days’ worth of leftovers.”
“Oh, well, I have a lot of food at home.” If you could consider two yogurts with questionable dates, a third of a block of cheese, and some bruised apples ‘a lot.’
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, coming down a couple of steps.
Damn older sisters and their keen eyes.
So I did what little sisters do best.
I lied.
“Fine. Just at my kid quota for the day.”
Ezzy glanced back at the window where loud laughter drifted out. “They were exceptionally loud today,” she agreed. “Okay. Well, we should get together. Just you and me. I feel like we’ve been drifting apart lately. I know nothing about your life.”
“What life?” I shot back, only half-joking. “But, yeah. Let’s do it. Figure out your schedule and let me know when you’re free.”
With that, I turned to walk away.
“Alara?”
“Yeah?” I asked, turning back.
“Christopher is nice, huh?”
I worked hard to keep my face serene, knowing she was looking for any sign that her words had some kind of impact.
“Chrissy?” I asked, nodding. “Sure. Salt of the earth.”
I could tell I’d accomplished my mission when she frowned.
“Love you,” I called, then rushed off before she could try again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Alara
I was so distracted by the book that I nearly waltzed my stupid ass right through an active crime scene.
It was only as I felt the plastic strip of police tape against my arms that I stopped walking, looked up, and saw the cops gathered around an apartment building about a block away from the pawnshop.
I stuck the bookmark in between the pages, then glanced around at the crowd.
“What’s this?” I asked the first person who made eye contact.
“Murder,” she said, whispering it like if she said it too loudly, it might come for her too.
“Gang stuff?”
“No, it was a woman.”
“She’s so nice. Was,” another woman said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms as if fighting off a chill while the morning sun was kind of baking the streets.
“You knew her?”
“I mean, not knew her. But she was my neighbor across the hall. We talked sometimes. She was so young.”
I looked toward the building, figuring it was most likely some sort of domestic thing. Despite what it looked like on shows or even the news sometimes, people generally aren’t out getting murdered all willy-nilly in the city. There’s usually a personal or criminal element to it.
“Shame,” I said before making my way around the police tape and continuing my way up the block and around to head toward my apartment. It was only five in the evening, but Tuesday was historically the slowest day at the shop, so I gave myself half a day off.
“Hey, bud,” I greeted Tuna as I made my way inside.
He didn’t even lift his head to look at me.
“Nice to see you too,” I said, tossing the book on the kitchen counter.
My apartment was actually pretty roomy for the city. Which it owed me with how inconvenient it was to access.
And I’d spent a lot of time and pretty much any extra money I came across to fix it up.
Growing up, we hadn’t had much by way of money. There was certainly no money for painting walls or buying cute throw pillows. I didn’t realize windows could have more on them than cracked plastic blinds until I was almost a teenager.
So I’d been very intentional about decorating my first very own space.